A Touch of Red
by TheOnlyMeIsMe
Summary: Approx. one year after "Seeing Red" – Tess and the Turtles find themselves in the cross-hairs of trouble once again, as a vile plot for revenge threatens to tear the bonds of family and friendship they've formed to shreds. Rated T for language, violence, and flirty sexual tension. Questions, reviews, and constructive criticism are always welcome! Happy Reading!
1. Chapter 1

The stainless steel electronic doors opened with a soft mechanical hiss, and the three men who'd been waiting patiently out in the darkened corridor now calmly entered the pristinely white lab that unfolded before them. There was no doubt the men's senses were being assaulted by not only the stark contrast in lighting from the shadowed hall they'd just traversed, but also the sharp chemical smells that seemed to permeate every square inch of the labs glimmering white surfaces.

But if they were bothered, these men showed no sign of it; they're dark eyes and sharp features seemed focused on one thing and one thing only – another shiny steel door located at the back of the lab.

Like gliding shadows, the men passed through the room without a sound; the only noise being that of dozens of machines and various lab equipment whirring and humming as they calculated and processed thousands of bits of information each second. Then there were the shelves of books, computers, and chemical components, each tucked away in cubbies and corners or carefully stored in their own jars, vials, and beakers awaiting use by the scientists who called this pristine laboratory home.

Finally, near the back of the lab, they passed several rows of glass aquariums; each its own little ecosystem meant to supply its small occupants with the closest copy of their natural environment as humanly possible. Snakes, young komodo dragons, scorpions, spiders, and several brightly colored frogs lounged on thick branches and small rocks, while jellyfish and puffer fish floated calmly along in the saltwater environments they called home.

And just like everything else in the seemingly sterilized lab…the men in dark suits ignored these creatures as if they didn't even exist.

It wasn't until they stopped before the steel doorway at the back of the laboratory that the man in the middle spoke, his voice echoing strangely in the pristine emptiness of the lab. He spoke in Japanese, his voice as sharp and commanding as his dark, almond-shaped eyes. At the sound of his voice the man to his right stepped forward, producing a small silver keycard out of pocket of his black suit. With a quick swipe he flashed it in front of the electronic card reader just to the right of the door, and all three men waited motionless as the reader beeped softly three times, then chimed happily as this door also opened with a soft mechanical hiss.

Before them was a small office; just as pristinely white and sterilized as the rest of the lab. It was sparsely decorated, with a single counter to the right, a few shelving units along the walls, and a small but sturdy-looking desk slightly offset in the center of the room. And behind this desk was a man, reclining rather contentedly in a comfortable and expensive looking white leather chair. He wore a long white lab coat over what appeared to be very expensive dress clothes, and his hands were folded thoughtfully in front of his face; all the while his cool and measured gaze was fixed solidly on the computer screen in front of him. He paid no attention at all to the men who'd entered his office; choosing instead to act as if he were oblivious to their existence…or, rather…they weren't worth his time to acknowledge.

It was at this desk the dark-suited men stopped; with the man in the middle stepping forward slightly to set himself apart from the other two accompanying him. Yet all of them held a similar expression on their face; one of distrust and pointed irritation. When the man in the middle finally spoke, his words were sharp and dripping with contempt.

"The Master is tired of waiting. He requires the results you promised without further delay."

For several long moments the man behind the desk made no move to answer; acting every bit as if he had no intention of acknowledging their presence at all. This seemed to quickly infuriate the men standing before him, and as their eyes narrowed dangerously, the man in the middle slowly and pointedly slid his hand into the inner lining of his suit jacket and pulled out a small, but extremely ornamental silver dagger. In one swift motion, he slammed the tip of the dagger into the desk, burying its viciously sharp silver tip deep into the pristine white surface. It was only then that the man seated at the desk finally looked up from his computer screen; his seething eyes flicking somewhat nervously between the dagger and the men standing before him.

"My apologies, gentlemen…I meant no disrespect." The man seated behind the desk attempted a contrite smile, but it came off more like a painful sneer than any form of an admission of guilt. "I was simply looking over the final results of the testing your Master requested." He paused, licking his lips nervously as his eyes flicked back momentarily toward the dagger still buried in the desk. "Shredder has been very patient…and I assure you, his patience will be well rewarded."

At this all three men flinched as one, and the man at the forefront snatched the dagger from the desk and leveled it threateningly at the man seated in front of him.

"You _will not_ speak the Master's name, pawn! We will not allow such disrespect…especially from one such as yourself!"

The tension in the air was so thick it was almost palpable, and with a nervous flinch the seated man raised a placating hand, then carefully adjusted the dark rimmed glasses that had slid slightly down the bridge of his nose.

"Again…my apologies, Mr. Todaka." He paused, slowly reaching for the small, white tablet that rested between the two of them on the desk. "Perhaps I should just show you what our research has produced…then you can let _the Master_ judge whether my work has been worth his patience."

His inflection on the words "the Master" made the man holding the dagger grip it more tightly; his dark eyes narrowing venomously as he watched the white coated man gather his tablet and stand, rather slowly, from behind the desk. For a moment he simply stared at him, then he slowly and pointedly slid the silver dagger back into the sheath that remained hidden inside the edge of his suit jacket.

"Mind your tongue, Dr. Stockman. The Master may be patient…but I am not. I will not suffer your petty insolence again."

To this, the man known as Dr. Stockman simply nodded, then stiffly began tapping the screen of his tablet as he stepped nervously around his desk and out of the office toward the lab. Once back in the lab, Stockman seemed to relax a bit; the haughty note returning to his voice as he motioned for the men to accompany him toward an area of lab equipment and a small storage unit in the far left corner of the lab.

"As you can see, Mr. Todaka, we finally have a fully synthesized version of the serum ready for testing." He paused, proffering a hand toward the temperature controlled containment cabinet on the counter in front of them. "It's taken valuable time…and much effort…but I believe the fruits of our labor will be well worth it." He paused, his eyes glinting malevolently as he now gestured toward the three small, seemingly harmless blue vials in the central shelf of the containment chamber before them. "We are now to the point of testing an infusion of the TD04 compound directly into the host's blood stream…and as long as there are no adverse effects to the host itself, this will turn said host into a proverbial "Trojan Horse"…perfect for the delivery system of the TD04 compound."

Mr. Todaka regarded Stockman with a hardened glare, his dark eyes moving pointedly from the small blue vials, to Stockman's eager and obviously proud gaze.

"And this TD04? It has the desired affects you claimed you could produce?"

Stockman cleared his throat, a look of superiority growing on his face as he tapped the screen of his tablet and then spun it so the men before him could see.

"Oh, most assuredly! As you can see, the TD04 mutates the natural dermal oils that are produced by the body of the host, giving said host the same natural defensive properties of the _Anura_ _Dendrobatidae…_ commonly known as the Poison Dart Frog." Stockman paused, a slight smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he noticed a stiff nod of approval from the man before him. "We've even been able to assimilate other unique and naturally produced toxins of other species, such as the puffer fish, Komodo dragon, and even spider venom…." He paused, motioning briefly toward the rows of glass aquariums and their occupants on the opposite side of the lab. "…to allow for not only a higher level of toxicity from exposure to TD04, but also to incorporate other useful side effects…such as paralysis, and the sedative-like properties produced by some natural poisons."

This brought a pointed pause from Mr. Todaka, as he exchanged glances with the two men who had accompanied him.

"Unfortunately, the effects aren't permanent as of yet…but can assure you we're working tirelessly toward that final result." Stockman smiled vilely as he tapped the screen of his tablet with his stylus. "As I stated…all of the time and money your Master has invested in my work is coming to fruition. In just a few short weeks, I'm certain we'll have the final compound ready for him to do with as he pleases…" he paused, his wicked smile widening as he suddenly fished a hand into the pocket of his lab coat and pulled out a small, black thumb drive. "…until then, please accept this information as proof to your Master that all is going according to plan."

The man to the left of Mr. Todaka suddenly spoke, his voice deep and cutting as he spoke to his colleagues in Japanese. The man to the right nodded in agreement, but Mr. Todaka remained silent. He calmly reached for the thumb drive, taking it from Dr. Stockman with a measured glare. He then turned it over in his hand, his dark eyes carefully looking over the seemingly simple device before handing it off to the man on his left. As he did, he responded to the man who'd spoken, also in Japanese; his words noticeably holding a cold, threatening undertone that Stockman quickly recognized, despite his inability to understand him.

Once Mr. Todaka finished speaking he turned his dark eyes back to Dr. Stockman, then bowed his head ever so slightly without breaking eye contact.

"I will pass along the information which you have provided…but know this, Doctor Stockman…." He paused, stepping dangerously close to Stockman with a hateful gleam in his eye. "…You are only as useful as the results you produce. Disappoint the Master again, and he will see to it that you are treated just as you would treat one of your test subjects…." He paused yet again, giving his words time to sink in as Stockman nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "…for despite the high regard in which you hold yourself, the truth of your existence is simple: you are just as expendable as they are."

At this, Dr. Stockman nodded curtly, doing his best to hide the nervous tension that was quickly building in the pit of his stomach. Then, without another word, Mr. Todaka turned, leading the men at his sides just as calmly and quietly from the lab as they had entered.

It was several moments after the doors had closed with a soft, mechanical hiss before Dr. Baxter Stockman released a long, nervous sigh from behind his tight, thin lips. His eyes then narrowed dangerously, and he slowly turned back toward the 3 small, innocent looking blue vials resting quaintly on the shelf of the containment cabinet on the counter beside him.

The lenses of his glasses glimmered with a strange, otherworldly blue hue as he leaned over to make himself eye level with the little blue vials. Then, through clenched teeth, he whispered to no one in particular.

"Don't worry, _Master_ Shredder…." The inflection of sarcasm was heavy in his voice as he whispered to the little blue vials in front of him. "…soon the truth of _your_ existence will be revealed…and then we'll see who the expendable one _truly_ is."


	2. Chapter 2

" ** _Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength,_**

 ** _While loving someone deeply gives you courage." - Lao Tzu_**

If you really stop and think about it, most storms have two faces. They can be both terrifying and beautiful…destructive and regenerative. And while one face is usually at the forefront, blindingly obvious in its untamed force and vehemence…the other is often hidden in the shadows; no less a part of the storm…but generally more difficult to behold.

The raw power of Mother Nature. Unpredictable…unstable…unstoppable…and completely amazing. Yet despite their destructive power, there are some elements of a storm that are incredibly breathtaking…intricate balances of unbridled strength and delicate splendor. But in order to witness these rare moments of wonder…one must be willing to brave the storm's wrath.

 _Personally…there's not much I enjoy more._

I rolled the throttle of my Harley as I rounded the corner, leaning the bike into the curve as I watched the car in the lane beside me swerve dangerously close to my right side. In response I quickly pulled in the clutch and revved the engine, hoping the growling roar of my engine that erupted just a few feet from the drivers' open window would make them more aware of their surroundings.

But, as usual, the driver completely ignored me; instead they slammed on their gas pedal, shooting them just far enough ahead that they could quickly cut over in front of me, slam on their breaks, then proceed to whip their car left at the intersection (and across two lanes of traffic) just ahead of both myself and the rest of the late afternoon commuters.

Thankfully, I was used to drivers like this ( _I did live in the Big Apple, after all_ ), and had already ascertained the situation around me so I could slide quickly ( _but politely_ ) into the lane just to my right and avoid rear-ending the inconsiderate motorist who apparently had no interest in sharing the road with motorcyclists…or anyone else, for that matter.

 _I swear…there's never a cop around when you need one._

After that little incident, the remainder of my journey was thankfully an uneventful one. This, in turn, helped me make the quick jaunt home in almost record time, and before I knew it I was parking my Harley in the small, sub-level parking garage of the quaint, 5 story apartment building I now called home. Once my bike was settled, I didn't bother with the elevator, but rather took the stairs up the building two at a time; my backpack slamming unceremoniously into my backside as I flew as quickly up to my rooftop apartment as my legs would take me.

On my way up, I passed one of the half-dozen neighbors that I shared the building with. I didn't speak; I just waved and smiled politely as I puffed past…and she, in turn, gave me an awkward stare as she lifted her shaky hand from where it was clutched nervously to her rather gaudy, oversized purse.

She, and most of the other tenants who lived here, were older individuals…passing easily for someone's grandma or grandpa. There was only one other "younger" person in the building other than myself; a single woman named Maurine DeLau. She was originally from France, was in her 40's, and worked for one of the local medical centers on the east side of Manhattan. She and I spoke on occasion, just general chit-chat mostly, but it was nice to be familiar with at least one of my neighbors…just in case there was ever someone snooping around the building who didn't belong.

But finally, my tiring legs pushed me up the last flight of stairs to my floor… _and yes…for the record, I do indeed have a whole floor to myself._

 _Truth be told…It's pretty awesome, actually._

My "apartment" was actually a remodeled, loft-style apartment; completely open conceptually ( _aside from the bathroom_ , _of course_ ) and sparsely decorated ( _I don't need much_ ) with old-school, dark wood floors and exposed brick walls. Don't get me wrong…It's not ridiculously large, or anything fancy by any stretch of the imagination…but rent is cheap, and, honestly, I really do love it. I especially love the fact that at the rear of my apartment, just off from the kitchen area, are a beautiful pair of antique-looking French doors. These doors open up into a quaint little outdoor patio; a place where I could sit outside and enjoy a rather beautiful rooftop view of the New York skyline…particularly Central Park…all from the privacy of my own "backyard".

 _So, yeah…Pops really did me a huge favor when he helped hook me up with this place. Allow me to explain:_

The landlord of our building is an older Japanese woman named Ms. Nadori, who Pops had apparently known off and on for several decades now. When I suddenly was in need of a new place to reside, he'd taken it upon himself to see that I was well looked-after. Despite my protests, he worked tirelessly with Ms. Nadori for several weeks to not only clean the apartment ( _which had sat empty for several months_ … _go figure_ ) but also work out the details of my rental agreement, as Ms. Nadori spoke very little English. But, once everything was in place and I was able to move in, I couldn't thank either of them enough for all of their help and understanding through the whole, tiring process.

 _On a side note, I've tried to question Pops several times about exactly how he knows Ms. Nadori…but whenever I do, he gets a look on his face like he's just swallowed a lemon and starts rapping his Mahogany cane against the floor like he's playing a game of whack-a-mole at Coney Island._

 _Needless to say…after several attempts, I've decided to leave the subject well enough alone._

So now, as I quickly locked the door behind me and dropped my keys and wallet into the small, leaf-shaped bowl on the stand beside the door, I heard the loud, incessant mew of my black cat Seras calling to me from her perch near one of the living-room windows.

I scuttled quickly across the living room, slowing down just enough to slide my jacket and backpack off my shoulders and drop them on the couch before continuing on to the kitchen. "Yeah…yeah…I hear you, kitten cat." I paused, gliding over to the fridge to deposit the brown paper bag Pops had insisted on shoving into one of my saddle bags onto a shelf, while at the same time snatching a bottle of water from the door so I could take a quick swig. "And don't worry…Pops sent you a can of sardines along with my sushi so you can have a special dinner tonight too."

Seras meowed in response, sliding like a shadow from her spot on the windowsill to leap up on the small bar top that jutted out from the wall to separate the kitchen from the living room area. Here she pranced back and forth, flipping her tail insistently as her soft purr rose in volume until she sounded eerily similar to the engine of my Harley.

I took another quick swallow of water before setting the bottle down on the counter and stepping over to her, rubbing my hand several times down the length of her back before giving her a good scratching behind her ears.

"I know you want attention, but there's a thunderstorm rolling in…and it looks like it's gonna be a good one."

Seras proceeded to boop my cheek with her head, clearly indifferent to the urgency in my voice. However, when my hand lifted away from her head and I started to turn away, she mewed despondently at me, her cry carrying an almost chastising note as she watched me go.

"I hear you…and I promise, I'll even refill all of your catnip toys tonight…I just want to get a few quick shots of this storm!"

Seras gave me one final, reproachful mew before leaping down off the bar top and following me across the kitchen; her yellow-green eyes watching intently as I stopped just long enough near the edge of the French doors to kick off my riding boots and slide my tired feet into a pair of flip-flops. Then I quickly leaned over toward a small, beat up desk in the corner that I jokingly called my "study area"; the place where homework was done, bills were paid, and all other boring, adult activities I was forced to partake in were performed. But what I came away with was not boring in the least; as this was the last place I'd haphazardly laid my old, Nikon digital camera.

I turned it on to make sure the batteries still had a charge, then quickly turned toward Seras and adjusted the zoom to my liking. As she flipped her tail reproachfully at me, I smiled down at her from behind the lens.

"Oh, I'll only be a minute! Just sit tight and I'll be right back."

Without waiting for her to give me yet another disapproving glare, I quickly slipped through the French doors and out onto my patio/roof. The wind had picked up quite a bit since I'd pulled my motorcycle into the parking garage, and I could suddenly feel the temperature dropping quite abruptly as the storm front moved ever closer.

I smiled, closing my blue-green eyes as I drew a deep breath in through my nose. The smell of the coming rain was heavy in the air, and to me it was a welcomed reprieve to the usual city scents of smog, metal, and the like that I was used to. After another deep breath I opened them again; lifting the camera to my eye as I stepped toward the eastern edge of the rooftop and snapped several quick shots of the ominous cumulonimbus clouds looming in the distance.

Without warning the wind suddenly whipped up my blonde hair, sending it flurrying around my face and shoulders as if it were a living thing. I quickly dropped my camera from my eyes and growled softly under my breath; flipping my head sharply to attempt to clear the tendril-like strands from my face. After a moment the wind died down and my hair fell loosely back around my shoulders, and with a sigh I again lifted the camera toward the ever darkening storm.

This time it was not the wind that disturbed me…but something else. A feeling. A sense that something…or someone…was near. I shrugged it off, snapping a few more quick shots as lightning flashed silently into view. Then, just as the answering thunder began to rumble in the distance, I caught the faintest scents of fall leaves, damp earth, and sage as they tickled my nose with their familiar fragrance.

Almost instantly a soft smile began to tug at the edges of my lips, and even as I absentmindedly reached up to gently touch the small, silver, Japanese-style turtle charm hanging from my neck, I was immediately aware of a large presence suddenly looming directly behind me. To this, I didn't react at first; choosing instead to nonchalantly drop my hand from the necklace and snap a few more pictures of the dark clouds looming perilously nearer.

When I finally did react, it was simply with words; as I slowly lowered the camera from my eyes and tried to stifle the hint of playful sarcasm I knew was weaving its way into my voice.

"Well…either I'm getting better at this…or you're not trying as hard." I paused, the smile on my lips growing as I heard a sharp, indignant snort echo just behind and slightly above my right ear. "I've known you were around since before that last big roll of thunder."

The presence behind me grunted, then I felt a large, three-fingered hand softly grasp my upper arm and gently turn my body around to face it.

My smile reached its peak as my eyes focused in on a large, humanoid, green-skinned figure; whose amber eyes were glinting with a warm sense of mischief as they focused in on mine. His crooked, scarred smile was sharp and somewhat cocky, yet I could see beneath the surface that shimmer of tenderness in his features that made me want to immediately draw closer to him. After a moment, the large, red-masked turtle spoke; his deep, gruff voice tempered ever so slightly with an affectionate undertone that still managed to make my heart skip a beat.

"Hey Tess."

In response I lifted my free hand to touch the rough and somewhat scarred plastron shell that covered his broad chest, then leaned forward and stood on my tip-toes so I could place a soft kiss on his green-skinned cheek.

"Kon'nichiwa, watashi no Arashi." (" _Hello, my Storm_.")

Raphael snorted a laugh, and I could feel him shake his head slightly as he lifted me bodily off the ground; pulling me close and holding me tightly against himself. "One of these days, I'm gonna have to start learning Japanese." He paused, his grin widening slightly as he gently lowered my feet back to the rooftop. "I still don't get why you call me that."

I smiled warmly, wrapping my arms around his large frame as I tipped my head up slightly to better see his face. "I told you…it wasn't my idea…it was Pops who called you that first." I paused as thunder rumbled softly in the distance, and Raphael's amber eyes met mine once again as he glanced down at me with a sly grin. "Personally…I just like how it sounds." I shrugged, turning my eyes back toward the oncoming storm. "And…well…it fits."

At this Raphael growled, his eyes narrowing faintly as he lifted his gaze back toward the darkening sky. "What exactly does it mean again?"

I smiled, my eyes squinting slightly as a gust of wind carrying the scent of the coming rain whipped around us. "Arashi…it means Storm."

Raphael shifted his weight from one leg to the other. "Hmm. So you think I'm like one of those, huh?" He nodded his head toward the whirling storm clouds, a look of wistful curiosity suddenly flashing across his normally hardened features.

I regarded him quietly for a moment, watching his eyes flicker here and there across the swiftly rolling clouds. Then I sighed, squeezing him gently as I turned my blue-green eyes to the clouds as well.

"It's not a bad thing…I mean, I love thunderstorms…I have since I was a kid."

This brought an amused glare from Raphael, who arched an eyebrow under his bright red mask before turning back toward the clouds as I continued. "They're one of the most powerful forces of nature we experience…strong, and bold, and unapologetic about what they are. They can be fierce and wild…sometimes violent -" This brought another quick glance from Raphael; his amber eyes flashing with an almost painful gleam for the briefest of seconds. "- but they're also beautiful...and needed. They wash away the debris and filth that the world leaves behind…and breathe life back into otherwise dry and barren landscapes." Again I paused, and as if on cue a bright flash of lightning leaped across the sky, followed almost instantly by a nearly deafening rumble of thunder that lasted almost a full minute before it finally faded into the distance.

For a few moments we were both quiet; watching like silent statues as the clouds continued to churn over our heads. Then suddenly, the wind whipped up and whirled around us, tossing dust and debris over the rooftop like a small, invisible funnel cloud. I watched pensively as the tails of Raphael's bandana were also swept up in the torrent, as was my blonde hair; together they danced and entangled with one another like live tendrils fighting some sort of mighty battle. Then, as the wind slowly began to calm, they floated down to rest on Raphael's plastron, and almost immediately, without thinking, the words seemed to leave my lips even before my brain had fully formulated the thoughts that were running through it.

"Not everyone can appreciate them…but I think storms are amazing wonders of nature." I paused, reaching my hand up to gently touch the tangle of my hair and his bandana. "I love storms…and I'm sure I always will."

I heard Raphael sigh softly, as ever so gently he pulled me as close against his body as he could. His arms were wrapped tenderly around my shoulders and back, and I willingly leaned my body against his plastron as a great gust of wind suddenly roared past us yet again. After a moment I lifted my head, and our eyes met just as another flash of lightning raced across the darkened evening sky. Then, without a word, he gently leaned his head down until his lips met mine; holding me in a loving embrace until little droplets of rain began falling lightly from the moisture-laden clouds.

As the rain slowly began to intensify, our lips reluctantly parted, and I felt a small sigh of regret slip from my throat as my eyes longingly met his.

To my surprise ( _and admittedly, slight amusement_ ) I saw Raphael staring down at me; his amber eyes narrowed slightly to match the cocky, self-confident grin he wore so boldly across his rain-dampened face.

"Yeah…storms are pretty awesome, aren't they?"

For a moment I simply stared at him, my brain still lost in the tender moment we'd just shared. Then suddenly the innuendo of his words hit me like a wet washcloth, and I scowled up at him; doing my best not to laugh as the rain began to fall from the sky in a downpour.

"I swear, Raph…we can't ever have a serious conversation, can we?"

Raphael grunted, his shrewd grin widening as he suddenly released me from his strong grasp and took a step back; all the while eyeing me with a sly gleam in his amber eyes.

"What?! I was just agreeing with you!" He paused, leaning toward me slightly to gently cup the side of my wet face in his three-fingered hand. "Storms really _are_ awesome…and it's nice to know how much you love them…."

Almost instantly I felt my face turning a bright shade of fuchsia, and as I opened my mouth to speak, Raphael suddenly dropped his hand from my face and reached down to lift my left hand up from where it was hanging limply at my side. He regarded the watch that rested on my left wrist for a brief moment, then turned his still gleaming amber eyes to mine. "…but it's getting late…and I'm on patrol tonight, so I need to get my shell in gear."

Not waiting for a response from me, he suddenly leaped nimbly to the roof's edge, glancing back for only a moment before he disappeared across the rooftops.

"You'd better get inside and out of this rain. This storm looks like it's gonna be a real pain in the ass!"


End file.
